li"/ 



I 



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THE COMPLETE POEMS OF 
MRS. KATE MAUD SPEED 



COPYRIGHT 1914 -BY 
Mre- Kate Maude Speed. 



?^ 




MRS. KAFE MAUD SPEED 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 

BY 

MRS. KATE MAUD SPEED 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION 

BY 
B. HARRISON FISHER 

AND A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

BY 

WM. E. CLEMENS 




TOLEDO, OHIO 

ALPHA PUBLISHING CO. 

1914 



"^ 






LIST OF CUTS 



PAGE 
Mrs. K. Maud Speed Frontispiece 

Mr. B. Harrison Fisher, opposite ix 

Rev. W. E. Lee, opposite 1 

Carl H Keller, Mayor, opposite . _ 16 

Sir Johh H. Bowles, opposite 24 

Mrs. Ada Brown -Stewart, opposite, 32 

Rev. J. C. Taylor, opposite 40 

Mr. Albert Payne, opposite 48 



)CI,A397500 



ENCOMIUMS 



The Life and Poems of Mrs. Katie Maud Speed, con- 
taining a biography of the author by W. E. Clemens, Past 
Grand Master of Masonic Lodges of Ohio, and prominent 
citizen of Toledo. 

Introduction by B. Harrison Fisher, L. L. B., Toledo, O. 

Sketches by the following leading men of Toledo and 
elsewhere : 

Albert A. Payne, graduate of the Toledo High School, 
and Grand High Priest of Royal Arch Masons for ihe State 
of Ohio. 

Rev. B. R McWilliams, Pastor of the Third Baptist 
Church of Toledo. 

Hon. John H. Bowles, Most Eminent Grand Commander 
of Knights Templar, Cleveland, Ohio. 

A. L. Harris, former Pastor Third Baptist Church of 
Toledo, now a resident of Chicago, Illinois. 

A. M. Clemens, Mail Carrier, and long a resident of To- 
ledo. 

Rev. Daniel Carter, D. D., Pastor of the M. E. Church 
at Fayette, Ohio. 

Forest Mitchell, graduate of Frankfort High School, 
Frankfort, Indiana, and licentate minister of the Third Baptist 
Church. 

Mrs. Ada Brown Stewart, Secretary of the Federation 
of Colored Women's Clubs of Ohio. 

Rev. J. C. Taylor, Pastor of Friendship Temple, Toledo, 
Ohio. 

Endorsement iby the Hon. Carl H. Keller, Mavor of To- 
ledo, Ohio. 



CONTENTS 



List of cuts - vi 

Preface ^. ix 

Introduction . x 

Life of authoress 1 

Poems 11 

Index to poems 79 




B. HARRISON FISHER 



FOREWORD. 



Why I have called my little book The Honeysuckle is 
that as this clinging, climbing shrub entwines itself to all 
it comes in contact with. So may this little book of verse 
entwine itself around the heart of you my readers and linger 
there. It has been my steadfast purpose to give to the world 
my Poems as God inspired me and if in any instance I have 
failed — deal gently kind reader — and know the error was of 
the head and not of the heart. 

The Author. 



INTRODUCTION. 

By B. Horrisen Fisher L. L. B. 

I was honored by the author of this book to write the in- 
troduction, but the very name of Mrs. Kate Maude Speed is 
introduction enough in itself. Whenever we hear it called, 
whenever we read it, whenever we see her face we think of 
those little sprightly rhymes, of those poetical gems of Dun- 
bar — for poets are born and not made. 

It has been my good pleasure to have known the writer 
and reader for a number of years, and during that time noth- 
ing has impressed me so much as her gift of poetical expres- 
sion. 

Well we know that there has never been an occasion 
when called upon that she did not respond in her most happy 
vein. Although she may call them fragmentary, they run 
through the whole gauntlet of human life — Happiness, Sor- 
row, Dialect, Ambition, Discouragement, Pride, in fact Life 
itself is represented. I would not have you believe that her 
rythm and meter are perfect, yet is anything perfect except 
what is Fashioned by the Hand of the Almighty, but the 
Thought, the Feeling is there and that is worth all. I could 
go on and write volumes of this woman and her poems, but 
it is needless for no words. of mine can make them better 
than they really are. 

I am quite sure that each and every person who is proud 
of this great Negro race commends her effort to give the 
world the benefit of her gift, for knowledge and power are of 
no avail unless they can be imparted. I ask you to deal 
charitably with her for who knows what Tears, what Heart 
Aches, what Sacrifices are wrapped up in these little pages. 
If there be mistakes, remember they are unintentional, for 
after all it is not the dotted *'i" that we want but the meaning, 



,nd the iesson they teach. I heartily commend her to the 
pubhc and predict ihat this will be the means of giving her 
die recognition she so justly deserves, for too ""^"J °* °^^. 
••Flowers bloom to waste their sweetness on the desert air. 
With apologies, I remam sincerely, 

B. Harrison Fisher. 



Toledo, Ohio, April 29, 1914. 

Mrs. K. Maud Speed, our fellow townswoman, has writ- 
ten a took of Songs and Poems, which I believe to be worthy 
of all attention and consideration. 

iMrs. Speed was born in Toledo, and her father, J. C. 
Greener, one of Toledo's oldest colored citizens, kept a bar- 
ber shop for a quarter of a century at the corner of Summit 
and Adams streets, where the Thompson-Hudson store is 
now located. Mrs. Speed was one of the first colored girls to 
enter the Toledo High School. 

But I believe that the people of Toledo will do all they 
can to encourage any among us who possess talent. But 
aside from the fact that Mrs. Speed is perhaps the first col' 
ored woman to publish a book of verse, her book. ''Songs and 
Poems," shows marked literary ability. Her work has the 
fine musical rhythm that one expects from her race, and some 
of her dialect poems have been most favorably compared to 
those of Paul Lawrence Dunbar. 

CARL H. KELLER, 

Mayor of Toledo. 

"Humanity does not only want poetic words and rythmic 

rhymes, 
But deeds and actions from a life sublime around your heart 

let the Savior's love entwine. 
Then you'll really love and lift the fallen of mankind." 

Forrest Mitchell. 

Toledo, O. 

The author of this volume of poems, Mrs. Kate M. 
Speed, has been know^n to me several years as a woman of 
most excellent personal character, high ideals of life, and a 
most earnest and zealous friend and promotor of every move- 



ment that could in any way advance and uplift her people, 
and make the world a better place to live in. 

That she possessed the "poetic gift," in a marked de- 
gree, has been known to her more intimate friends for some 
time, and, believing that her poems were worthy of a general 
circulation, they have encouraged her to publish them in book 
form. I have listened to the recital of many of the poems 
of this collection, with pleasure and profit, and bespeak for 
the published volume a most favorable reception at the hands 
of the reading public. 

(Rev.) Daniel Carter, D. D., 

Pastor M. E. Church, 

Fayette, Ohio. 

Toledo, June 29th, 1914. 

There is one mind common to all individuals. This 
human mind wrote poetry, and this must read it. What the 
immediate future holds for this little book no one can foretell. 
But one thing is certain, that men and women of the coming 
time will, I am sure, be iilled with admiration for the pa- 
tient work of the author, in her determination and persistence, 
in spite of doubts and fears which such an effort causes. 
Perhaps the women born in the happier days that are to 
come, will with us rejoice in the inheritance that she of today 
has prepared for them. 

I am pleased to add my mede of collection of poems to the 
work of Mrs. Speed's maturer years. Hoping that great suc- 
cess may crown the effort. 

Sincerely yours, 

Adah Brown Stewart, 

Mrs. K. M. Speed, 
Toledo, Ohio. 
My Dear Sister: 

Your letter is received. I have 'been so busy with my 
Court work that I have not had the time to answer earlier. 



I am pleased to know that so many of the leading citi- 
zens of both races in your beloved city heartily endorse 
author and book. 

I am convinced that your poems will stand the examind- 
tion of the most critical. May God's blessing be upon you 
and your book. 

Very respectfully, 

A. L. Harris. 
Chicago, 5-30-'14. 

Toledo, Ohio, July 3, 1914. 
I have read some of the poems in this volume in the 
original manuscript, and I have heard the author recite 
others. Any one acquainted with the laws of versification 
will agree with me that the poems of Mrs. Katie Maud Speed 
are a sure prophecy of the literary possibilities of the race.. 
If the reading of these lines shall but aw^aken the poetic fire 
that lies slumbering in some other sable breats, they will not 
have been written in vain. I subscribe my conviction that in 
giving to the public these verses Mrs. Speed has made the 
race her debtor. 

B. F. McWilliams. 

■^ 
In placing her poems before the public, Mrs. K. Maude 

Speed is about to accomplish a life's desire. 

It has been my good fortune and great pleasure to enjoy 
an acquaintance with Mrs. Speed for a number of years, 
during all of wliich time she has given to the world of 
letters, gems of thought \Ahich we are now^ to enjoy gathered 
together in one volume. 

Unlike the Classic Virgil, she sings not of "Arms and 
the Man" but rather of those thoughts and ideals which are 
near and dear to us all. Of Life and its beauties, of Nature 
in its rapturous garb and of the people and places we all 



Too much credit and praise cannot be given to one, who, 
tho oftimes discouraged and laboring under difficulties 
which were never reflected in her verse, knew not what it 
meant to despair. 

As a reward for her perseverance, Mrs. Speed is at last 
perniitted to give to you, to me, to us all, this beautiful little 
book of poems and rua}- each word, each line, each verse of 
it lift us up to do greater, grander and nobler things. 

Sincerely yours, 

Albert A. Payne. 

After eighteen years personal acquaintance, I have no 
hesitancy in saying that the authoress of these poems pos- 
sesses a gift seldom found in human society. She justly 
merits the title of 'being one of Toledo's gifted daughters in 
rhymatics. , 

Rev. J. C. Taylor, 
Pastor Friendship Temple, 

Toledo, ,Ohio. 

Columbus, Ohio, June 5th, 1914. 
1 wish to add this testimonal to the noble worth of Mrs. 
Katie Maude Speed, assuming all who read these poems, 
must appreciate the worth and energy of the author. Her 
contributions to the Masonic fraternity on many occasions in- 
si)ired many who Iiave heard her to press forward to a nobler 
life. 

Courteously, 

John Hawes Bowles, 
Grand Commander of K. T. of Ohio. 




REV. W. B. LEE 



THE HCInEYSUCKLE 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE LIFE AND 
WORKS OF THE AUTHORESS, 

By William Clemens. 



The authoress, Katie Maud Greener, was born in the 
city of Toledo, her father. Jacob C. Greener, being one of the 
oldest colored citizens. Toledo at that time was little more 
than a large village. Mr. Greener rented a house on Erie 
street, between Orange and Jackson, then called Oak street. 
[t was at this home that the five children were born, Eliza 
Bell, the eldest, being 18 months old at the time the father 
moved here with his young wife from Lafayette, Indiana. 
Mary Alice and Emma Jane, the second and third daughters, 
died in their infancy ; the fourth child, Edith Louisa, lived 
to young womanhood ; the fifth child, Katie Maud, our poet- 
ess, and Frances Helen are the only ones living. 

Our authoress' father often called her "The Wonder," as 
she was possessed of a wonderful memory and an intelligence 
far beyond the average. She began attending school when 
about six year old in the little old school house in the alley 
in the rear of Warren A. M. E. Church, a part of the old 
building being used as a blacksmith shop. The teacher, like 
her father, thought her a wonderful child, always, as a rule, 
being up with her classes, yet apparently not giving much 
time to study. While she was obedient to her teachers, yet 
she was always full of fun and frolic; the first on the play- 
ground at recess, but not always the first in the school room 
after the bell rang. 

Poetry came natural to her. She was continually rhym- 
ing; it mattered not at that time about either the meter or 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 

measure, our authoress would get the rhyme in just the same. 
Upon one occasion when the little girl was scarcely more 
than seven years old, she sat in school and saw a spider 
crawliiif^- up the wall ; she watched it for a few moments, 
then openinfT- her third reader, she wrote on the fly leaf: 
"Spider crawling up the wall, 
Take care, spider, you don't fall. 
I think I know just what you spy; 
You want to catch that little fly." 

Tliis is one of the hundreds of little rhymes she would 
make during school hours. Eler teacher told the parents that 
he could not always find it in his heart to reprimand her 
whenever he would find her writing poetry during school 
hours, for in spite of the time she spent in writing poetry, 
she was always up with her classes in her studies. 

A Mr. Clark had charge of the school for about three 
years, then resigned to study for the ministry. He left To- 
ledo and was not heard of for a great number of years. When 
the authoress learned of his whereabouts she wrote him a let- 
ter. He was then holding a charge in Yellow Springs, Ohio. 
He sent back in answer a beautiful letter to his pupil, in 
which he said that he could think of her as nothing but 
roguish, mischievous Katie. He paid a visit to Toledo sortly 
afterward, just to once more see his pupil, who had been m 
him, in the dear old days, a mixture of comfort and sorrow. 
Mrs. Eucy Staunton Day took charge of the school after Mr. 
Clark resigned, and our authoress went to her until the 
mixed schools for the Colored and White were inaugurated 
in Toledo. 

The authoress was one of the first Colored girls to enter 
the High School. There were four in all, namely: Maxie 
Franklin. Nellie Franklin, Alice Jenkins and Katie Greener. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 3 

'i he [our teacbcrs in thai school were Miss iiokem, Miss 
Hangs, Mrs. Cronise and Mr. Troup. At first there was a dis- 
|)Osition to treat these four Negro girls in an inferior man- 
ner. But through it all they studied earnestly, were up in 
their classes, and this, together with their good deportment, 
\^on respect, if not love, from their teachers. 

Katie was never so husy with her lessons that she dia 
not take the time now and then to write a piece of poetry 
upon whatever suhjccl was uppermost in her mind. One day 
upon the grounds, she and one of the White girls got into a 
(li.-pute over a lesson in 'botany, and it ended by the Whirc 
^■irl calling the Negro girl a liar. 1liis so incensed our 
lieroine that upon the impulse of the moment, she struck. 
with the back of her hand, the other girl in the mouth, say- 
ing at the time that perhaps she could teach her a lesson in 
manners if not in botany. The girl called over to the l)oys' 
l)laygroun(l for her brother, who hastily came to his sister's 
rescue, and upon hearing what had happened, he called Katie 
an abusive name: at the sarie lir^e he sto.^ped and picked u]) 
a handful of gravel and threw it in the Colored girl's face. 
1"he moment he did this he seemed to repent of his rash act, 
and ofifered to apologize. The apology, however, was not ac- 
cepted, for our lieroine's f("elings had been deeply woundeci. 
and when school was taken up, instead of looking over the 
lesson that was to be recited next, our young lady wrote these 
lines : 

''How I long for the little old alley, 
Where I used to go to school. 

And where every scholar 

Was taught the Golden Rule. 

The floor was rough and homely ; 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 

The window panes were small; 
The building was low and narrow, — 

Not room enough for all. 
The funny, crooked benches 

Looked like they had a pain, 
And yet, I have such a longing 

For the little old school house again. 
I am not much for the mixed schools, 

And some way don't feel right. 
For when some will treat you decent, 

Others ignore you, quite. 
And it's sure to be the common ones, — 

The dirty, trashy kind, — 
That always try to put on airs 

And keep you far behind. 
As far as the teachers are concerned, 

Miss Hokem and Bangs will do, 
But ^rs. Cronise — why, she looks at times 

Like she could tear you right in two. 
Mr. Troup I can't unravel. 

The only man in the room ; 
Sometimes his face is all sunshine. 

And then again all gloom. 
You must always stand a hundred 

If you want respect from him ; 
Troup despises a dull scholar, 

But likes energy and vim. 
Although he is peculiar. 

His heart I guess is right; 
At least he makes no difference 

Between the Colored and the White." 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 5 

How much longer she would have gone on pouring out 
her grievance in verse we cannot say, for at this juncture the 
class in arithmetic was called. Katie, belonging to Miss 
Mokem's division, entered the recitation room, and for the 
first time had a poor lesson. The compound fractions be- 
came mixed in the girl's brain, and she was sent back to 
study, w^hich thing deeply humiliated her. Mr. I'roup, know- 
ing that as a rule the girl had good lessons, wanted to know 
why she had so utterly failed at the time. He asked her 
what she had been doing. She truthfully answered, "writing 
poetry." Some of the scholars snickered, and Mrs. Cronise. 
ahvays having a desire to show off a scholar to bad advan- 
tage, especially the Colored ones, ordered the girl to bring 
whatever she had been writing during school h(jurs up fron"^, 
and to read it aloud as a punishment, so she thought. Our 
authoress, a little shame-faced, though with a determined 
will, marched up and in a clear voice read the verses. The 
teachers seemed spell'bound, except Mr. Troup, who with his 
face partly hidden behind a book, was enjoying it all hugely. 
The scholars tittered and whispered about the comments 
made upon the teachers 1)y the writer. [>ut peace was once 
more restored and the little incident seemed to leave a favor- 
able im.pression on the teachers and some of the scholars. 

Mr. Troup asked the girl to remain after school, and she 
was expecting to receive a good lecture, but to her surprise 
and pleasure he did nothing of the kind. He asked her how 
long she had been writing poetry ; who were her parents ; 
took her address, and promised to call upon her parents. He 
would at dififerent times seek out this girl and talk to her 
upon what was so dear to her heart, the meter and measure 
of poetry. He also presented her with some good books. 
And so the girl found that under that rough exterior he had 



6 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

a kind and noble heart, and so she placed him among her 
many friends. Upon leaving school a year later, he was very 
loth to have her go. 

A short while afterward the mother died, and the father, 
with the girls, Edith, Katie and Frances (Bell having died 
about a year before this time), moved to Elmore, Ohio, Our 
heroine, not liking this little village, went as companion to an 
invalid lady to Richmond, Indiana, where she met and, after 
a short courtship, married Mr. Albert Speed. After spendng 
two years in Chicago and Plloominglon, 111., they, with their 
little son, Claud, came to Toledo, the father and sisters hav- 
ing already moved back home. The father died a year after 
the authoress' return home, and was laid in their family loi 
in Forest cemetery, beside the dear mother and sisters. 

Our Authoress then got it into her head to write a song, 
and wrote a ballad entitled 'T Didn't Know." The words 
))eing set to music by Mrs. Nellie R. Ransome, a popular 
music writer, the song was published by the Hayes Music 
and Publishing Company, then located on Cherry street. Mrs. 
Speed gave an entertainment in Warren A. M. E. Church, ii 
which the new song v/as introduced by Mrs. G. U. Highv/arden 
accompanied by Mrs. Ransome. The house was packed, as 
all naturally desired to hear a song composed by one of their 
own townswomen. For all that it be said "Rome has no 
honor in its own country," this proved to be an exception to 
the rule, for the Speed-Ransome song found ready pur- 
chasers. 

After the expiration of a year Mrs. Speed wrote another 
beautiful ballad entitled "Somehow," and somehow she 
thinks this song her best effort. This song was introduced 
This song was also sung at another big entertainment given 
by Edward T. Harris, who received encore niter encore. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 7 

by Mrs. Speed, this tim^ by Toledo's "Nightingale," Mrs. 
l^aura Jones Watson. She was obliged to respond to several 
encores 

''Only You and I," a duet written by the authoress, was 
sung with great success by Mr. Charles Tracy and Mrs. Annie 
B. Taylor, between the acts of a drama also written by the 
authoress, entitled "The Bunch of Rosebuds." Other dramas 
written by the authoress are "Honor Before Wealth," Al- 
bert King taking the leading part and Pearl LeVan as the 
star actress; "Trifling with Hearts, or A Lesson to Lady 
Adelaide," another beautiful playlet, with Miss Adelaide 
Ashby taking the leading part. "The Bogus Nobleman" was 
the title of Mrs. Speed's last drama. It was repeated by re- 
quest, Mr.. A. M. Clemens, our popular mail carrier, playing 
the part of the nobleman, who succeeded in winning the love 
of the leading lady, Mrs. Clara Jones. 

Why our authoress never fails to be successful in pro" 
ducing her plays is 'because, first, she is careful in her selec- 
tion of the cast of characters, and the next most important 
step, the proper training and rehearsing of the work. 

The authoress has several new songs she hopes soon to 
have set to music, and like the honeysuckle that her book is 
named after, may she continue to climb. In a second edition 
that Mrs. Speed hopes soon to give to the public, combined 
with tho'^e poems she has already written, will be a number of 
dialect poems, written by request; also some short stories. 

Long live our authoress and poetess; a woman of our 
race, a woman of our town. 

WM. E. CLEMENS. 



THE HONEYSflCKLE 



10 THE HONEYSUCKLE 



BRIGHT AS THE STARS. 

Contributed by Mrs. Mayme Wright Randall, 

Graduate of the Toledo Conservatory of Music, Present 

Instructor of the Girls' Industrial Training School. 

Brig-iht as the Stars that shine in the Heavens; 

Pure as the Ang&l<6 that 4well in the sJde&. . 
So may your life bfe^brighter and brighter; 

With glad hearts we watch your continuous rise. 

How oft have we listened with pleasure and gladness 
Inspired by your poetry and cheered by your songs. 

So these simple lines I send as a greeting; 
Accept praise and honor, to you it belongs. 



THE flONEYSOCRLE 



Lines written by the author after making up her mind to 
have a Book of Her Poems' published. Thursday,' March 26, 

1914. 

iVe searched from ^ttic to cellar, , 

Looked in the leaves of old books, 
Opened bundles in crevice and corner 

In, every conceivable nook. 
Looking: — yes, looking for poems, 

Written from time to time, ^ 
When seized with an inspiration. 

Then would often destroy the rhyme. 

And, reader, I'll confide in you ; 
Since I've made up my mind to give you my poems, 
I can find such a pitiful few. 

Oh ! what fun it would be in the days gone by, 
I would sometimes write several a day. 

Whatever the thought was that came in the mind, 
I would write— read — and then throw them away. 



12 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

•'DE WATER "MILLION" AND DE CHICKEN." 

Boy, — what for you steal dat million? 

Don't start to stutter, — you dar to lie. 
I guess you thought I was a sleepin', 

On yo Tse allers got my eye. 
I saw you go in Rosco's garden, 

I saw you when you raised de latch, 
And says I to myself "Dat nigga's 

Makin' for Rosco's million patch." 

Says I, "I'll wait" and sho be certain. 

I held my href in dread alarm, 
And purty soon you came a sneakin' 

Wid dat great big million neaf yo arm. 
Oh me! what have I done to cause dis, 

De Lawd knows you — my heart will break. 
Me — yo spected honered mother ; 

Lay down dat million, for heaven's sake. 
What's I gwine to do I wonder? 

What dat you say? You'll take it l)ack craz^ 
idiotic nigga 

Dat just shows what brains yo lack. 

Go call Hiram in to dinner 

And both yo wash you hands and face, 
You oughten have a bite o' dinner 

Trying yo Family to disgrace. 
Put dat hoe cake down yo rascal 

And wait until de blessin's said, 
Ain't got a bit o' git up bout yo 

Never will have till yo' dead. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 13 

Look dar? Dar's one of Rosco's chickens 

Scratchin' up my yard agin ; 
I don't keep fouls to bother neighbors 

And just thin it's a shame and sin to let 
Hiram go and catch dat chicken, 

Ring its head off good and strong, 
For de way its done my garden 

I don't think I'll be doing wrong to — 

Whe-e-e-e-e — Hold it up a minute ! 

Now ain't that a beautiful big fat hen? 
Don't let de blood spill on de carpet 

Take it to de shed, and den 

Oh, pshaw — what makes me feel so shakey? 

De chicken's dead — dead as a beat, 
'Twould be a sin now dat liis head's off 

Not to fix him up to eat. 
Chicken-stew and plenty gravy, 

Dumplins we'll put in a few. [ 

Let me see — Tomorrow's Sunday, 

And the minister's coming to dinner too. 

To think of old Sam Rosco's chickens 

Scratchin' up my lawn so green. 
Were I to keep dat water million 

It wouldn't be so very mean. 
I wonder if it's ripe? I'll plug it. 

Yes ripe — and sweet as sugar, too. 
Now won't dat preacher smack his jiblets? 

Water million and chicken stew. 



14 THE HONEYStJCKLE 

Written by the Author during the campaign-'when Ruosc 
velt was running for President. 

iff' . 1 

Yes. the time is fast-approaching,- ! 

The election's near at hand. ' • 

Think w6ll, ere you' vote, 'Hear brother, • 

For the good of our dear land. 
Help elect the man that's worthy, 

Regardless be he friend or foe, 
The man of principle- you're after, ') / 

Success will then be ours you know. 
Our country needs a man of firmness, 

One that's good and- brave and true. 
Help elect him, do not falter, 

You'll regret it if you do. 

On the 8th of this Nover^ber 

When you, march erect and grandr i 

With the name of Ted^y Roosevelt 

Firmly clasped into your hand. , ' 

SqiHow I am in a dilemma, — 

When you walk up to the polls, 
Thinking; of this Honored Statesman, 
With what pride you'll cast your ticket 

Clean of heant and pure of soul. 
Should one be in .doubt and ask you 

Who's the best main to put there? \ 

Tell them quickly, vote for Roosevelt 

For the Presidential chair. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 1^ 

IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF MRS. MAE FIELDS, 
Who Departed This Life May 25th, 1913. 

Fading away like the stars of the morning, 

Losing their light in the glorious sun, 
So we will steal away, gently and lovingly, 

And remember our sister for what she has done. 

Her name and her place will ne'er be forgotten, 

AlsO; her life race is patiently run; 
We resign her to Thee, Lord, gently and lovingly. 

But will ever remember her for what she has done. 

So, in the harvest, if others may gather 

Sheaves from the fields that in Spring she has sown, 

Who plowed; or wh6 sowed, matters not to the reaper — 
We'll remember our sister for what she has done. 

She'll fade away, like the stars in the morning; 

So let her name be honored, be known 
Here, or up yonder; she must be remembered, 

Loved and remembered for what she has done. 

Members of Ruth Court, your sister has left you ; 

Members of Jewel Chapter, your co-worker is gone. 
Ah! how we loved her! So patient, — so gentle; 

We'll reverence her memory for what she has done. 

We know and we feel that her spirit's up yonder, 
For her life and her walks did so plainly say 

She was a Christian, — a follower of Jesus; 

She lived it, she walked it, she proved it each day. 



16 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Sometimes a deep sorrow, or something that's happened 
Will make the heart heavy, and burden the mind 

To such an extent that the brain will grow dizzy, 
A rash act be committed. This often you find. 

But our God is a just one, and measures our mercy 
And pardon so freely. His love is divine. 

Then how can we doubt that He'll not extend mercy 
To one who has ever been thoughtful and kind. 

So pastor and friends of this church, be encouraged; 

Bereaved husband and mother and sisters, you'll find 
God will show mercy (Ah, how can we doubt it) 

To one who has ever been thoughtful and kind. 



"IT*S NEVER SO BAD BUT WHAT COULD BE 
WORSE." 

Don't worry and fret and get in a rage 

At the least little thing that goes wrong 

But smooth the furrows from out of your brow 

And say — oh ! I'll manage it some way, somehow. 

And always remember this last line in the verse 

It's never so bad 'but what could be worse. 

Suppose you'r not able to buy a spring suit 
And you're hat is not just in the style, 




HON. CARL H. KELLAR 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 17 

Remember it does not help matters a bit 

To worry and fret all ihe while. 
Why, take up the old hat and alter the shape 

To the way they are wearing them now. 
Cure up the feafliers, clean the ribbons a bit 

The flowers will answer I vow. 
And always remember this last line in the verse 
It's never so bad but what could be worse. 

Suppose you*re not handsome like Kitty or May 

And don't take well at party or ball. 
Remember that beauty is only skin deep, 

And pride must one day take its fall. 
Be graceful and modest, honest and true, 

Be loving, gentle and kind. 
Win the man that possesses a good noble heart 

Happiness there you will find. 
And always remem'ber the last line in the verse 
It's never so bad but what could be worse. 

Suppose Woodrow Wilson does sit in the chair 

And demand an enormous pay. 
Just think if you will the numbers of years 

Republicans held sway. 
Make the very best of what must be 

And always bear in mind 
If you can not yourself mount the ladder of fame 

Help the other fellow to climb. 
Remember the bitter comes with the sweet, 

But look on the bright side and say: 
Tomorrow the sun may be shining 

Although it is cloudy today. 



18 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

"MATILDA BLY/' 

I've dropped in for a minute, Jane, 

I've the greatest news to tell. 
No, no, you needn't get a chair. 

I can stand up very well. 
I haven't very long to stay 

But as I was passing by 
I stopped to ask you have you heard 

About Matilda Bly? 

You've not? Well, it's a wonder, 
' The news do fly so fast. 

Well ! the long and short is 

That that gal is in our choir at last. 
You know, Jane, I don't gossip 

And what I tell you see 
Must 'be in strictest confidence 

Betwixt just you and me. 

It's that hypocrite, Jim Logan ; 

You know he's head trustee 
And whatever Logan says you know 

The others must agree. 
I've been hearin' and a hearin' — 

Folks will gossip — I can't see why, 
And they say that Logan's awful sweet 

On this Matilda Bly. 

Our village choir's alwaye borne 

A good and honest name 
And it sure would be a pity 



THE HONEYSUCKLE \^ 

And it sure would be a shame 
1^0 let one woman bust it up, 

I'hat's what it's sure to bring. 
Tor everyone in Huntsville knows 

Matilda Bly can't sing. 

Last Sunday night the choir sang 

*'A Charge to Keep" you know, 
And Til she squeaked above her voice 

l^rst too high ; then too low. 
That gal can no more carry a tune. 

No need for her to try, 
For she made a complete failure on 

"A God to Glorify." 

She thinks too much about fine clothes, 

1\)0 worldly and too vain. 
Our village choir needs the girl 

That's sensible and plain. 
I don't think Til knows enough 

To mix a batch of bread, 
Going through life all dressed up fine 

With nothing in her head. 

You know I never gossip, Jane, 

But it fills my soul with fear, 
For I love our church and choir 

And it's caused me many a tear, 
For I am the oldest member 

And I hold our choir so high 
It hurts my feelings awful bad 

To see Matilda Bly — 



20 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Perched up there in our choir 
And discord it sure will bring 

To have our choir bothered 
With one who can not sing. 

If she'd be a little modest 

And not sing so ali fired loud 
And quit flirting with Jim Logan 

And stop being so vain and proud 
We might tolerate her being there 

But she wants so to be heard 
That she drowns the rest of the choir 

You can scarcely hear a word. 

But Jane I must be going, 

Don't repeat please what I said 
For you know how I hate gossip 

And surely have a dread 
Of having things repeated 

For they're never said the same; 
And to be called a Gossip 

Gives a person a bad name. 

'Cause by now it's known all over, 

Village news you know do fly, 
Matters not how very careful 

Matters not how hard you try 
It will git out — and every person 

Who tells it adds a little on 
And the story keeps a growing 

Till it could reach a whole mile long. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 21 

But the easiest way is the best way 

And since the gal's there 
Let's take the poor vain critter 

To the Lord in prayer. 
For He works many changes 

If we ask He will draw nigh 
So we'll ask a special ulessing 

On Miss Matilda Bly. 



THE TANGO CRAZE. 



Honey, I'se done gone crazy, I can hardly work at all 

Since tendin' dat delicious Tango Ball. 

My heart's still palpitatin' from de joyment dat I had; 

Why I tangoed till I fell again' de wall. 

You can talk about yo dances, and I 'spects I'se danced a few. 

But I never seed a dance like this afo. 

Why I could tango in de mornin', in de noon day and at night 

For I tells yo dat dis dance I do adore. 

De whole ting am so charmin' and yo clothes sho off so well 
As yo caper round de 'ball room on de arms of some big swell. 
Wid de tips of just two fingers you hold yo dress a bit 
To sho off to advantage in de dress de gorgeous slit. 



12 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

De dance am so exciting, no time to love or spoon, 

For I tells you every minute you is caperin' round de room. 

Fus to de lef you's goin, an den back to de right ; 

Your body swaying back and forth — Oh ! it's such a purty 
sight — 

When you knows just how to dance it for you sho must keep 
de time 

And give yo'self some action as yo'U swing in down de line. 

Sadie Bland thought she cut a figure Leanin' on Jim Mooney's 
arm, 

He lookin' green as any pumpkin just right off his father's 
farm. 

Sade, she thought she looked so stunnin' wid high heeled slip- 
pers on her feet, 

I let on I didn't see her, as we all marched out to eat. 

My beau lays all over Mooney, got some style and git up, too. 
Den he sho do dance dat tango, I tell you dar am very few 
Can dance like Zeke, when he's a mind to; Ezekiel, that's my 

fellow's name, 
Awful proud, — and feared o' nothin', course he often bears de 

name 
Of being an enormous fighter ; Zeke's all right — if let alone. 
Jump on him first and try to do him, he'll try to carve yo to 

de bone. 

Ah ! Fse so glad de supper's over and we is once mo in de hall 
And I can once mo do dat tango fo dis am sho de grandest 

ball 
I ever in my life attended, and when I die, Oh! what ^ 

charm 
To tango right straight into heaven leaning on Ezekiel's arm. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 23 

"MY HEART AND I." 

We wandered far away, my heart and I, 

Tossed on the billows of life's rugged way, 

Making for some harbor where no tears or sighs will reach us. 

Then we'll lay our burden down 

And peace and joy be ours, 

A new life then we'll try 

My heart and I. 

But can we find such peace — 

A perfect peace? 
For out of sheer despair 

My soul doth cry, 
For rest, sweet rest, this is the boon we crave. 
Then Lord please hear our prayer 
For just such peace we cry, 

My heart and 1. 

A whispering voice we hear, 

My heart and L 
A hand also we see ,that beckons us. 

The voice it whispers c^ently : "Have no fear. 
But ask and pray for perfect faith and trust 
Then gloom and doubt will disappear." 

We awaken with a start 

My heart and L 
The dream so real filled our soul with fear, 
I cried aloud: *T thank thee for this hour, Lord" 
And oh ! to know thou lovest me and thou art near. 
Yes, thou art near to me 

My heart and 1. 



24 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

BISHOP ARNETT. 

Lines dedicated to the late Bishop B. W. Arnett and re- 
cited by the author, Mrs. Kate Maud Speed, at the memorial 
services held at Warren A. M. E. Church, Sunday afternoon, 
Nov. 11, 1906. 

Looking into the records of ages past, we discover many 
events too important ever to 'be forgotten. 

The life, the works, the deeds of this one of the greatest 
men of our race will never be forgotten, he will ever live in 
our memory, and in the memory of our children, our grand 
children, our great grand children and even down from gener- 
ation to generation. 

Bishop Arnett's work is finished here upon earth and he 
has gone to reap his reward. 

Gone to that Celestial City— a house not made with hands, 
eternally in the Heavens. 

"ETERNALLY IN THE HEAVENS." 
"His Work is Finished/' 
His work is finished here; 

The Master has called him home. 
He's done with sorrow and care. 

The Savior claims him for his own. 
These walls are draped in sombre hue 
Of him we knew and loved so well. 
We'll never hear his voice again. 
He's gone with God to dwell. 



His work is finished, 
Hise race is run. 

Life's battle is fought. 
The victory won. 




SIR J. H. BOWLES 
COLUMBUS, OHIO 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 25 

We've eulogized the life and death 

Of many a brave and noble man ; 
Heros loyal and true, — but yet — 

There is none just like our own Arnett. 
Douglas, Langston, Bruce and Payne 

And many others we could name. 
Honored statesmen, departed, and yet 

There's none just like our own Arnett. 

Arnett was born to rule and reign, 
Quick intellect and clear, cool brain; 
Witty, aye ! even humorous at times, for he was wont 
to say 
There's time for work and time for play. 

He loved obedience ; was firm and kind; 

Expressed noble thoughts ; had a noble mind. 
He won respect from black and white 
Because he walked straight and upright. 

His work is finished. 

He has gone home to rest 
In that beautiful mansion 

Where all saints are blessed. 
Methinks I can now see 

The gates open wide 
And the Master says "Enter 

And sit down by my side." 
A spotless white robe 

And a bright, starry crown. 
Now he sings the glad song 

Perfect peace I have found. 



26 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Now may we live better 

And strive day by day 
To do more for the Master 

And walk in His way. 
Then when the Lord calls, 

Like Arnett we can sing 
I have finished my work, 

I'm a child of the king. 



TO LITTLE MILDRED JOHNSON, 

A five-year-old miss, who was stopping with her parents at 
the home of the author at the time this poem was written — 
March 26, 1914. 

Little dimpled darling, running through the house, 

In every kind of mischief, dressed in a little blouse ; 

Asks a million questions, then answers them herself; 

Sometimes she sets you crazy, the little wilful elf. 

You must thread her needle ; she's going to sit and sew. 
And be the very bestest girl that ever you did know. 
She sews perhaps a minute, then the sewing's on the floor 
As she glances out the window, then makes straight for 
the door. 

She's back within a minute, and wants to help me write ; 
I had an inspiration, but the thought has left me quite. 
My pencil and my tablet are thrown on the floor — pat. 
As the little miss commences to climb up in my lap. 
I pet her and caress her, the bewitching little elf. 
What cares she for the poems? She's a poem in herself. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 27 

OUR BEAUTIFUL EASTERN STAR. 

Now what shall I write for the Eastern Star? 
Since a poem is requested of me, what can I tell of inter- 
est, and what shall my subject be? 

Each month I read your paper, 

Such a newsy little sheet, 
T can hardly wait for the time to come 
To receive it, it is such a treat. 

I read the names of your officers, 

Of your chapter both local and grand. 

How much I would love to meet you, 
And lend a helping hand. 

For I think the work is so beautiful. 
And nothing this beauty can mar, 

Five ladies sitting gracefully, 

Each one on the point of the star. 

I love to think of those women 

In the Holy Book Divine, 
That our noble order is based on 

Worthy deeds and truths sublime. 

Adah, Ruth, and sweet Queen Esther, 
And Martha the sister of Lazarus are 

Together with Sweet Electa, 
Make up the points of our Eastern Star. 

Fairest amongst thousands were these five women ; 
They let their lights shine near and afar. 



28 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Let us strive to emulate them, 
Sisters of the Eastern Star. 

Blue symbolizing fidelity, 
Yellow's the golden grain, 

White is spotless purity ; 
Ah ! read it again and again. 

The evergreen for Martha, 

Who knelt and wept and died ; 

Saying, "Lord, if thou hadst been here. 
My brother needst not have died." 

Electa, so pure and noble, 
Who was put to a cruel death; 

She would not deny her religion. 
And prayed with her dying breath. 

''Father, dear, — forgive them," 
The sweet voice feebly said ; 

Then whispered: "Love one another," 
And patient Electa was dead. 

Ah ! No- Not dead, but living — 

Triumphant up above — 
Holding their sessions in Heaven, 

Where there is joy, and peace, and love. 

Now Sisters, dear, of Texas— 
And the Royal Brothers, too, 

I do not feel in the least 
As though I'm a stranger to you. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE ^) 

And may you be successful. 

Be it near or be it far, 
With this, your little paper 
Known as the Eastern Star. 
Fraternally yours, 

KATIE MAUDE SPEED, 
P. G. Cond. and Rep. of Texas, Toledo, Ohio. 
This poem was written by the authoress and contributed 
to a Colored Texas paper, called **The Eastern Star." Mrs. 
E. E. Burnett, the efficient editress of Cleburne, Texas, is also 
the Grand Secretary of the Grand Chapter of the State cf 
Texas, and has filled that responsible office for a number of 
years. 



"MOTHER." 

This little rhyme on the author's mother was written by 
her when a child between seven and eight years old. 
No, there is no friend like her, 

No, not another. 
No, there is no friend so Dear 
As Dearest, dearest Mother. 

She is all the world to me. 

Oh ! how I love her 
Because she is my dearest friend. 

My own, my darling Mother. 

Father and sisters are very kind, 

I never had a brother, 
But who I love, and love the most 

Is my own Dear sweet Mother. 



30 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

FREDRICK DOUGLASS. 

June 26, 1914. 
Ah ! Douglass, what can we say more of thee than has been 

said. 
Thy name in highest praise is sung; all o'er the land; all o'er 

the sea ; yet we must mention thee. 
'Een tho thou hast passed beyond the Shore, 
Yet in our memories, thou wilt live for ever more. 

This little book it would not be complete without a word of 
thee of whom we knew and loved so well ; 

And when you left us, e'en though it was the will of God ,the 
Gloom it fell. 

For aye — it matter not what time or place, 

You always stood ready to defend the Race. 

Broad mind — Pure Soul — Courageous and Strong; 

A Hero — Lover of the right — despised the wrong. 

Sleep on we'll not disturb thy rest ; 

Sleep on thou art numbered with the 'blest, 

In that Celestial City fair and bright 

Wherein you dwelt there is no night, 

But one Eternal Day. 

[ wonder do you see and know 

Of us poor mortals here below. 

Some times we feel so tired and wish our journey at an end 
And then we ask for strength to take up the burden of life 

again. 
Some day for all Life will be o'er, 
Then Peace and Joy and Rest we'll find. 
For God has promised perfect peace and rest to all mankind 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 31 

So watch and wait, dear friend to bid us welcome as we 

come 
I -'or we are surely going one by one. 



TO LADY MARCH, THE INTRUDER. 

Oi^e never knows just how to take you 

Old treacherous Bunch of deceit. 
One day all Blow and Bluster, 

Another day. mild and sweet. 
Your disposition is trying. 

Everyone I am sure thinks the same. 
You've behaved in this very same manner 
Since the day you have first borne your name. 

In the morning, the sun's shinino- brightly 

And the atmosphere's hazy and warm. 
If you choose to feel mean and contrary 

Before evening there'll sure ibe a storm. 
Once a year you put in your appearance 

x\nd your limit is thirty-one days. 
You visit around without being asked 

And are shunned on account of your ways. 

So as you're about to leave us 

This much is true I know 
We're always sorry to see you come 

And glad to see you go. 



M THE HONEYSUCKLE 

DEDICATED TO pRINCE YUCU-MOHAMMED 
By Mrs. K. M. Speed, Toledo, O. 

Leaving his country a few years ago, 

Half heathen, half civilized, 

A youth with a thirst for knowledge and fame 

Determined to win for himself a name. 

His grandfather, one of Africa's kings, 
As far as the coast, this little boy brings, 
Then saying "Good-Bye," he returns to his home. 
Leaving his grandchild quite alone. 

This wonderful boy, full of hope, goes his way, 
Traveling by night, traveling by day ; 
His busy young mind was all in a whirl. 
So anxious was he to get out in the world. 

Quick to learn was this active young brain, 
For this African boy has but one aim. 
Knowledge, Ah ! knowledge is the thirst of his soul, 
A name and knowledge and 'TVe reached my Goal." 

He traveled through Germany, France and Spain, 
Studying hard, this knowledge to gain. 
So rapid he learned till finally he 
Declares he now must America see. 

So an African Prince, after years of great toil, 
Steps his feet upon American soil. 
Yucu-Mohammed, proud, noble and grand. 
Has won a name throughout the land. 



■TTI 




MRS. ADA STEWART 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 33 

He'll return soon to Africa, to his own native land, 
This noble young prince, with a helping hand 
And a heart full of love, 
Will teach them of no'bler things above. 
In England, America, France and Spain. 
Prince Yucu-Mohammed has won a name. 
And Afric's sons one day will sing 
'*Yucu-Mohammed is King, is King." 



'^WITHOUT A WOMAN IN IT." 

You can't succeed so well in life. 

There's no need to 'begin it, 
'Twill be a failure every time 

Without a woman in it. 

In every little walk in life 

You will notice in a minute 
Things won't prosper very long 

Without a woman in it. 

At your Stags one is sure to stay, 

I'll wager and know I'll win it, 
That the hours would pass more pleasantly 

Were there only a woman in it. 

As the worl goes on you'll hear men say 

'That- for women" — but they don't mean it. 

For they knaw that life would be a blank 
Without a woman in it. 



34 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

FROM TWELVE TO HALF PAST THREE. 

We met most accidental, 

The 'bells were ringing noon, 

And the time we spent together. 
We'll not forget it soon. 

The feeling seemed so mutual, 

And we both had to agree 
That the time was spent so pleasantly 

From twelve to half past three. 

There was a kindred spirit, 

And I'm sure you knew quite well 

That I was under your contral 
As tho' bound by a spell. 

We talked and chatted gaily, 
Your influence more I felt ; 

When I met your glance my heart beat fast, 
As we went around the belt. 

We talked of little nothings. 
Our hearts so light and free ; 

We were, oh ! so happy together 
From twelve till half past three. 

Of course we dined together. 

And if you only knew 
The pleasure in eating a dinner 

At a table set only for two. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 35 

And then came the time for parting, 

And your glance said quite plainly to me 

That you enjoyed the hours spent 
From twelve till half past three. 



ANSWER TO S. B. SAUNDER'S POEM 

The Grand Patron of O. E. S., 
Entitled "Shine Just Where You Are." 

I read your lines of poetry, 

Yes, read them o'er and o'er. 
And each time had a longing, 

Yes — a longing to read them more. 
How beautifully you pictured 

The shining of the star, 
And, ah ! the noblest and best, 

To shine just where you are. 

How we could soften a burden 

And drive away sorrow and care, 
Make life worth the living 

And trouble more easy to bear; 
And even tho' it be a candle, 

'Twill appear as bright as a star, 
And your life will be bright and happy 

If you shine just where you are. 



36 THE HONEYSUCKLE 



"ON THE GREAT pOET AND AUTHOR, DUNBAR." 

Often we rave our learned professors, 

Bow down to an empress or queen, 
Look up to the man, who has power and riches 

Beauty's also a rare boon I we'en. 
But there's one in my mind, who I think was far greater 

Than all these together you bring, 
It was Dunbar, the Poet, and every one knows it 

For he's the poetical king. 

I read his poems over , again and again 

And each time a new inspiration will 'bring 

So 'humorous and witty, in his dialect verse 

Which I often ponder over trying hard to rehearse. 

Lm so proud to have known this great man of our race. 
It was so nice to meet him and talk face to face. 
A feeling so mutual and the reason said he 
Was that kindred spirit between poets you see. 

He encouraged my efforts, this broad-minded man, 
And ever was ready — to lay out some plan. 
He would have me recite, but I always felt small 
While comparing my lines with the great Poet Paul. 

A'h ! could you but lived Paul, but the Master knew best 

When he took you home where you now are at rest. 

Rut your works will live always and the whole world can 

sing 
Of Paul Lawrence Dunbar the Poet and King. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 37 

"OUR GIRLS/* 

Why should we not be happy? 
Why should we not be proud? 
When we hear the news a-flying every day that the towns 

throughout Ohio 
None they say can be compared with Toledo, where the girls 

are all o. k. 

It is such a downright pleasure to see these blessed girls 
That have grown right up here underneath your eye from a 

baby in the cradle 
Till theyVe reached the sweet sixteen 
Not to give you either worry or a sigh 
From this bunch of pretty damsels. 
Of course, we can't name all, 
But will, with your permission, name a few. 
For this town is full of Rosebuds, 
Dearest girls you ever saw. 
From the age of sweet sixteen to twenty-two. 

Let me see, there's Marguerite Jackson ; 

Marguerite, you all know well ; 

A graduate in music as you know 

She can touch the ivories proper, 

The truth can't be denid, 

She can transpose as you like it, high or low. 

Myrtle Darby, our musical genius, 
Proud and graceful as a queen, 
A trifle haughty, even some might say 
A crown and throne is all she needs 



3S THE HONEYSUCKLE 

To rule and reign supreme 

And a sceptre — then our queen can have full sway. 

Irine Ambers, sweet and modest, 

Teaches in the public school. 
Has won respect from all who know her 

Keep boys in mind the golden rule. 

The Castle girls are winsome namely, — Helen, Bess and Ruth. 

These sisters to their parents are a gem. 
Of course Ruth, being the youngest, is the darling of the 

house ; 
Ruth's a tease, and to her pranks their are no end. 

The stately Julia Cannon and our singer, Beulah McDowell, 

Are a fine example and the girls all say 
P'or modesty and pride it can not 'be denied 

That Miss Julia and Miss Beulah win the day. 

And gentle Essie Brown, it's a pleasure her to know, 

For Essie's always amiable and kind 
And any proposition the girls do make or plan 

You can always call on Essie every time. 

Viola — Toledo's night-in-gale, and her sister, Hazel, too, 

An addition to best society. 
Viola takes your heart by storm and little Hazel says 

Her heart is ever happy, light and gay. 

There's the Ford girls, sure you know them, popular and ad- 
mired. 
And little Maud with intellect so keen. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 39 

The girls can't do without her, this little maid of ours 
Who has scarcely passed the age of sweet sixteen. 

Esther Shoecraft is a damsel one is always pleased to meet ; 

When once you've met her you will not soon forget 
For there's that about the girlie that's refreshing and you'll 
say 

You're downright glad that you and Esther met. 

Martha Huguely is a mischief, a great lover of fun. 

You can't get lonesome when you're with this miss. 
She always wards off sadness and looks for naught but glad- 
ness, 

We pray for her a life of joy and bliss. 

Playing in the orchestra the Tandy sisters can be seen. 
Edna plays piano and Drusilla the violin. 
Oh ! such perfect harmony, these girls are simply grand, 
And any one who hears them know, they're taught by :{ 
master hand. 

Ethel Walker, you must know her, 

I'he greatest alto singer in town. 
Don't have to take a back seat nowhere, 

She holds the entire choir down. 

We must not forget the newlyweds, they still are in the ring. 

Kit Randall, on her still we have claim. 
And the roguish Esther Cannon though she's ])arely reached 
sixteen, 

Tho the little lady's married just the same. 
The sedate Leonie Warner and Ina Clemons, too. 



40 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Made up their minds to join the newlyweds, 
They're thrifty and industrious and not afraid to work 
And an excellent hand on making home-made bread. 

We must mention Hazel Rogers, even tho she has left the 

town. 
Hazel with her charming little ways 
Ever full of fun ; loved by everyone, 

Is sure bewitching when she sings and plays. 

Edith Howard and Edith Hightower have joined the bene- 
dicts, 

For a while the lassies had the marrying craze. 
Girls, since you've taken the step, we hope you'll never regret 

For it's Toledo that the girls deserve the praise. 



"OLD FATHER TIME." 

Yes — steadily going — moving along, 

And every last one of us moves with the throng; 

Some end their journey in less than a day. 

Others journey, journey, journey and aye! 

Wealth, influence and power combined, 

Yet all must bow down to "Old Father Time." 

No need to say "Backward, turn back in your flight," 




E ■% '• 



REV. I. C. TAYLOR 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 41 

For he's on the move, ever by day and by night ; 
He don't stop to take rest, he don't stop to think, 
He won't take a nap, no, not even a wink; 
Never fails in his work, he would think it a crime ; 
He's on his job proper, is ''Old Father Time." 

Once a woman most beautiful, haughty and vain, 

(Her beauty, I ween, over balenced her 'brain) 

Was in such constant dread, as the years glided by, 

Of losing her beauty, she prayed she might die. 

"How could 1 tolerate and endure the pain. 

Me the beautiful queen with the power to reign? 

Stay your hand, old grim cheater and give me some sign ; 

Take the years back again, 'Old Father Time.' 

Let time stand still just a few years, do please — 

I have diau'Oiids a!)d riches, and will give you all these; 

And other fair women, we'll all take a stand 

To shower you with wealth if you just stay your hand." 

"The years must roll on,'* 

Rang out the chime ; 
"Can't stop them a minute," 
Said "Old Father Time." 

And as you are going through life do not try 

To ever be thinking of the years that's gone by. 

Make well of the years that God gives you and say — 

I always will think and plan for today. 

Be useful and active and also wide awake ; 

If you lack will and energy you make a mistake. 

If you do this you'll not even ask for a sign 

From the great old Methusaleh, "Old Father T'me." 



42 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

RECITED BY THE AUTHOR AT THE W. M. M. 
HELD IN TOLEDO, JULY 12, 13, 14, 1911. 

I want to tell you a story, 

And every word of it's true. 
This story always interests me, 

And I'm sure it will interest you. 

Perhaps some of you present 

This beautiful story know. 
It dates back, if I remember, 

Some sixteen years ago. 
When a band of noble women 

Who wished to do work in His name. 
Was started out on their mission 

By the departed Bishop Payne. 

As the years went by they grew stronger. 

And were frequently heard to say : 
*Tf we strive we will be successful. 

For where there's a will — there's a way." 
The work grew wider and wider, 

And tiiese women so noble and grand, 
Throughout the State of Ohio 

Have formed many a Missionary Band. 

The sixteen years they've 'been working 

Have not been all up hill, 
But they take the bitter with the sweet 

And proceed to do His will. 
But the prettiest part of this story 

Is of a woman worthy and kind. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 43 

Search if you will the world over — 
None like her you'll ever find. 

Of course there is sure to be someone 
To complain and kick at the flaws; 

But our heroine smiles and continues to work 
In this grand and glorious cause. 

She tells of our dear, loving Savior, 

And how He was crucified, 
And of so many good Christian pilgrims 

Their privilege and rights denied. 

She tells of the daughter of Jephtha, 

Who gave up her dear young life 
To save her father's honor 

From danger, toil and strife. 
So our cross we must bear most bravely. 

Then list to the whispering sound, 
As it tells you the harder the cross 

The brighter will be the crown. 

Now I'm sure you are all most anxious 

To know who this woman may be 
Who bears all these crosses so bravely, 

Saying: 'T'U go where He leadeth me." 
But why should you wonder a minute. 

When the very wind, as it blows, 
Whispers the name so softly, 

Our own dearest president, ''Rose." 

For sixteen vears she has lead us 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 

In this grand missionary work, 
As our own dear, faithful leader, 

Never known to falter or shirk. 
Wherever Rose is needed — 

It matters not where it may be — 
She is ever ready to answer: 

"Here am J ; send me, send me." 
She's a good, clean Christian woman, 

Inspired by the One above 
To preach the blessed gospel. 

Telling of Jesus and His love. 

We see familiar faces 

Whom we meet year after year, 
Still at their post of duty, 

Working for the cause so dear. 
Sister Fanny Coleman 

Is here with the same sweet smile, 
Giving words of encouragement. 

Doing work for the Master the while. 
Rosa Smith and Ida Ransome, 

Dear to each and every heart, 
Still holding their office with honor, 

Each willing to do her part. 

1lie First Vice. Emma Williams, 
On the right of the President sit, 

And we note the little lady 
Still retains that natural wit. 

Our missionary women 

Mean to keep up with the times; 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 45 

But you'll understand it better 
If you talk with Mrs. Grimes. 

There's our President— Mrs Singleton— 

Also Ella White, 
Are here with faces 'beaming, 

And oh ! what a pretty sight 

To look at — and know of our women, 

And we can proudly say 
Our missionary women 

Are the women of the day. 

The superintendent of the Juvenile branch, 

Mrs. A. B. Young, we find 
Has in her charge the children, 

Keeping them well in line. 

Then there's Mrs. Cora Adams, 

Place her where you will, 
With honor, grace and dignity, 

That place she's sure to fill. 

Savannah Allen's grand respond, 
Made last Wednesday night. 

Will tell you better than I can- 
She's one of our brightest lights. 

Miss Bird and Miss Bell, our soloists, 

Gave joy too great to tell. 
I am sure we can not very easily forget 

The songs from the Bird and the Bell. 

Ou- own little Estella Gainer, 
On whom we have a claim, 



46 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Fresh from Wilberforce College — 
Advancement's her highest aim. 

And you who are lovers of music, 
Whether you be female or male, 

Let me point out to you Miss Cora Brock, 
As Cleveland's nightingale. 

And now, dear missionary workers, 

And local workers, too. 
The success of your societies 

Lies chiefly with you. 
Be loving and kind to each other. 

Using each and all in a way 
Phey will love you and respect you, 

And then you will prosper each day. 

Our President, Drusilla Clemons, 

Deserves credit for her work this year ; 
She's been most faithful to her post, 

And whether afar or near, 
Her work and talk was mission. 

So let's go to work with a will. 
And try hard by another year 

To be more successful still. 

So now, dear friends, in conclusion — 

The time has come to part — 
We can only say "God bless you," 

From the very depth of our hearts. 
I, too. will ask God's blessing. 

Through sunshine and through rain, 
Keep our souls pure and spotless 

Until we meet again. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 47 

I'LL BET ON THE ONE THAT WINS." 

A song — the words written by the author just before the 
leffries-Johnson fight. 

It's been discussed quite thoroughly, 
Discussed both pro and con, 

About the coming fight of next July. 
Jack Johnson now the champion. 
And the undefeated king 

Will taste each other's knuckles by and by. 
P)Ut ah ! the thing that puzzles me 
About these heavyweights. 

And I know, too, what I am talking about; 
They both have knuckles made of steel, 
And nerve that's made of iron, 

And I don't know which will knock the other out. 

If Jeffries whips Jack Johnson, 
Why, all so well and good ; 

I'm sure I'll neither holler nor complain; 
And if Jack Johnson wins the fight, 
Let it be understood, 

I am happy if I'm connected in the same. 
But what's a fellow now to do 
With such a risky thing? 

But still I'm going to bet to loose or win ; 
But I hope to be successful, 
And the man I'm betting on 

I trust will be the champion of the ring. 



48 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

"OUR WOMEN." 
Composed and recited at Findlay, O. Written during 
sessions of the Missionary Convention. 

While looking over the women 

Of our missionaries today 
The thought did quickly fill my mind 

To have something to say. 
And so I attend the sessions 

And listen from time to time, 
I've been waiting on our women, 

Yes, writing it in rhyme. 

We first will ask God's blessing 

Upon this glorious work 
And these missionary women 

Who never shrink or shirk. 
These missionaries are not afraid to do 
And among the earnest workers 

Suppose we name a few. 

First, our faithful President Rosa 

Always at her post is found ; 
Could you find one quite so faithful 

If you'd search the world around ? 
Thirteen years she's worked, she's labored, 

Takes the bitter with the sweet. 
Matters not the cup how bitter 

You always — with a smile she'll greet. 
Oh, for more such Christian women 

That can always stand the test ; 
This our leader's known and honored 




ALBERT A. PAYNE 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 49 

From noTLh to souih ;.iom east to west. 

The enemy of late's been busy 

'] Vying- our women to divide. 

, , /et beh.i . oatan" 

. 1 _. si.a;ia the iirii:^_i, ..lue by side. 
We look at these familiar faces 

I liat we meet from year to year. 
May every year our faith grow stronger 

In our Lord, our Master dear. 

We note with juy Mrs. Fanny Coleman, 

Seated in her accustomed place. 
It lends a pleasant inspiratioji 

Just to behold her pleasant face. 
The good she does among the children, 

The news is scattered far and wide, 
Such a worthy Superintendent 

Abide with her, Dear Lord abide. 

Mrs. Woodson hails from Xenia, 

The Fraternal delegate. 
Spoke to us such words of wisdom 

Endowed by the Almighty Great. 
Such a power are our women 

In this missionary band 
Faith aiid prayer is the one thing needed 

And God will lend the helping hand. 

Our student, little Estella Gaines 

In all her lovely womanhood, 
Fresh from college, now looking forward 



50 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

God grant that she may do much good. 
May she enter on her mission 

With a strong, determined will ; 
Offer up yourself ,if need be, 

The harvest is gathered, now grind the mill. 
If in foreign lands you're needed, 

Don't make excuse and find a plea; 
But raise your head and answer proudly 

"Here am I — send me! send me!" 

When Miss Ransom reads the minutes 

In her clear and silvery tone, 
It pleases you to sit and listen, 

She has a sweet way — all her own. 
So modest and so unassuming, 

Yet so active in her work. 
So proud are we of our young women 

Who from duty never shirk. 

What a band of noble workers, 

It fills our hearts with joy and pride 
To know they are our ideal women 

That part you know can't be denied. 
What peace we've had throughout our sessions, 

Working in pure harmony; 
Not a ripple on the water, 

Not a storm upon the sea. 
But we must soon say farewell, sisters, 

The time's at hand when we must part. 
But e'er we go a special blessing 

Dear Lord we ask with all our hearts. 
We pray to keep this band together, 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 51 

Unite us stronger, blessed Lord. 
Give us power over the enemy, 
Drive out malice and discord. 

And now to the dear friends of Findlay, 

Your kind attention we'll not soon forget, 
And tho our time has arrived for parting 

It's not without a sad regret. 
For you have made us feel most welcome 

And we'd love to linger still 
In this your pretty little city 

Sweet memories long our minds will fill. 
So now adieu, our year's work is ended. 

Our efforts have not been in vain, 
And every heart cries out at parting, 

"God be with you till we meet again." 



"J. N. ROSS." 

Composed and recited by the author at an entertainment 
given at Warren A. M. E. Church for the benefit of Pastor 
J. N. Ross as he was about to leave for Conference. 

While sitting, thinking, good and worthy friend of you to- 
night, 
Some farewell lines on you I thought I'd love to write. 
And Oh! if I could while with pencil in hand become inspired 
And write such things of you as I desired, 
I would tonight sing your praise 
In words too eloquent to be remembered many days. 



52 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

You're going from us and many a heart will yearn — 
And we will pray, hope, and trust for your return; 
But should you not to us return again 
We can but say '*We lost a true and faithful friend." 

Year after year we've seen our pastors come and go, 

But none we regret to lose like you, I know. 

Your locals, trustees. Aye! all who would the subject broach 

Will say, "Yes ! J. N. Ross has lived above reproach." 

Oh, wonderful love, faith and trust that so can keep a man 

Through all the world's temptations yet firm lie fn:v'^;. 

We thank Thee, Dear Lord, even for one short year for this 

great prize 
And may our hearts beat in unison tonight while wc his life 

do eulogize. 

.^ume will wait till one has passed away 

And then their good and noble deeds will rise up in a day. 
But while they're living, breathing, well and strong 
Is when I love to sing their praise — not wait till they have 
passed away and gone. 

Just note, for instance, when we love a friend, 
The floral tributes, Aye ! there is no end. 
Beautiful designs — anchor, cross and dove 
All speak from the noble, generous heart that one word 
"Love." 

So, as you journey forth, D^ar Pastor. Leader, friend of ourS; 

Our hearts go wnth you, 

And may fragrant flowers be strewn along thy way, 

And may your life 'be one bright, sunshine dav. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 53 

LINES ON BOOKER T. WASHINGTON. 

It seems quite befitting, I've long since been thinking, 

And I am sure you with me will agree, 
x\s a few lines we will trace of a great man of our racev 

This man is our own Booker T. 

A great educator — and the Lord and Creator 

Endowed him with wisdom and brain. 
I'he girls and the boys owe their comfort and joys 

To this man who in life has an aim. 

His aim a. id ani'biiion lie in his position, 

Any man could feel honored and proud, 
And this great institution where Booker T. reigns, 

1 he world in its praises are loud. 
He works and beseeches — explains while he teaches : 

He believes while you're feeding the brain 
That Labor ! All Labor ! is worthy and good, 

Aid industry's one's liighest aim. 

This wonderful leader, deep thinker and reader 

Says "Head and hands are combined." 
Them you can not divide ; they must work side by side ; 

Hands must help the head, brains and mind. 

If the girl is accomplished, keen-witted and shrewd, 

Cultured — refined — and well read. 
She should also be taught to sweep, iron and sew, 

And mix up a good batch of bread. 

This honored Professor and thrifty Progressor, 



54 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

In his school teaches industry, too; 
Boys and girls, learn to work ; honest labor don't shirk ; 
It will make men and women of you. 

All over creation, and tribes of each nation 

Are seeing as plain as can be 
That this school in Tuskegee, endorsed by Carneigie, 

Has found the most important key 
To the problem of teaching; and the plan is fast reaching 

All over this country so wide. 
So keep ever in mind, and you always will find 

Labor and intellect must go side by side. 

For labor is honorable, worthy and good, 

So people, wake up — you and me ; 
We are sleeping too long. Let us sing the glad song, 

And give all praise to good Booker T. 



"MEMORIES." 

Finding myself alone Dear 

And having a little time 
And feeling in the humor 

To write a little rhyme, 
My thoughts go out to you. Love, 

And I wonder if it can be so 
That you are the boy and I am the girl, 

They met long years ago. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 55 

And yet it don't seem long, Dear, 

x\s I think of the time and place, 
The quaint little village school house 

It's there where I first saw your face. 
Do you often recall the time. Dear. 

Does the little old school house still stand? 
Where we met for the first time together 

And I still feel the touch of your hand 

As you held mine, so gently a moment, 

When the introduction took place. 
And why did my heart throb within me 

As my glance fell upon your kind face? 

I recall too the dinner next Sabbath 

And the party that sat on the lawn, 
Two out of the party so happy 

Could have lingered from evening till dawn. 
But finally the sweet spell was broken 
When the good wife called all in to dine 
Where a good sumptuous spread was awaiting 

And the service befittingly fine. 

The party broke up in the evening. 
Now — what of the boy and the girl 
Whose hearts beat so strong for each other 

And brain and mind in a mad whirl? 
It is natural to think that they wandered 

Alone in the twilight to roam. 
But not so ; for our noble young hero 

Was her husband and that was her home. 



56 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

"ON THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT WM. McKINLEY." 

Snatched like a flash from Ji's world of sin and woe — 

'^Tone the way we all must go. 

Standing thoughtless of all harm, 

H^appy, strong and well ; 

A murderer's hand was raised 

And lo! He fell. 

Our president, leader, ruler of the land, 

Was shot down by a murderer's cruel hand. 

He was kept from falling by his guards 

And a number of the Royal Grand ; 

But a negro snatched the steaming gun from the villain's hand, 

A negro, courageous and brave, threw the gun aside, 

Or a third ball would have pierced the president's side. 

He lived a short while. 

And those who upon him did attend 

Said he was patient until the end. 

Wm. McKinley is no more, 

His race on earth is run. 

The last words that he uttered were: 

"God's will be done." 

Oh, what a warning his death should be to all, 

Showing how sudden can be our fall. 

A day or two before he died, 

With face so radiant and bright. 

He said to those around him : 

"Sing ^Tead Kindly Light.'" 

Dear saint — he knew his sould would soon 'be free. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 57 

And with the faintest smile he murmured: 

''Nearer my God to Thee." 

Rank, wealth, power, 

Aye ! It matters not how grand — 

We must bow some day 

To the Master's hand. 

And may we, when the time does come, 

Say. like William McKinley, "God's will be done." 



"STOLEN SWEETS." 

Tell me, dearest, truly, 

Was it really joy and bliss, 

And did you feel as I did 

While stealing kiss after kiss? 

To me the Garden of the Gods 
Was nothing to compare 

To the pleasure of that evening- 
Pleasures rich and rare. 

But stolen sweets are dangerous 
And, honestly, you'll lack 

If you don't call in a short while 
And pay those kisses back. 



58 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

These lines were written by the author on Sunday even" 
ing, June 2S, 1914, the same night of the successful Church 
Rally at Warren A. M. E. Church, the last poem written fo" 
this edition entitled: 

JUST GIVE THE CREDIT TO LEE. 

It was an awful burden 

And we will not soon forget 
The awful — awful struggle 

To rid our church of debt. 
Our church it was remodeled 

And looked fine we do agree. 
But 'twas nothing but pay off interest 

Till God sent us Rev. Lee. 

We must give Butler credit 

For he had the heart, like Lee, 
Rut the Bishop changed him 

Then all we did was to pay interest oflf you see. 
Year after year we struggled 

And seemed to pull apart ; 
There's some who lost all interest 

And many they lost heart. 

But (xod was merciful and good 

And today our church is free 
Through the energy of one good man, 

That man is Rev. Lee. 
He came to us four years ago 

And went right straight to work; 
Commenced to straighten out the ones 

^^^ho were inclined to shirk. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 59 

In every hole and corner, 

This man of God was there, 
Bringing sinners to repentance 

By aid of Song and Prayer. 
Poor — Obscure — Downtrodden, 

It mattered not to Lee, 
And that is just the reason 

Our Church today is free. 

Ah ! what a Glorious Rally 

In that dear old Church tonight 
I he Liiuney, it just poured in 

And what a pretty sight 
To see Captains and Lieutenants 

And Secretaries (all) 
Sitting receiving the money 

Under waving banners tall. 

The amount, two hundred dollars, 

Each company was asked to raise 
And the clubs — they worked most faithfully 

We must say God's name be praised ! 
When the money was all counted, 

There were thirteen Hundred strong ; 
Oh- how the people's faces fell 

They could scarcely raise a song. 

Then finally came the General 
Made up the balance the people cried 

Hurrah for Rev. Lee ! 
The Club knov\:n as the Busv Bee 



60 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Was swarming all around 
And this very busy company 

Four Hundred Dollars found. 
The Captain, Mrs. Clemens, 

Had the work at heart you see 
And it made one feel like working 

Under Noble General Lee. 

Two Hundred and Sixty Dollars 

Was the work of the Ladies' Guild 
x\nd the Captain, Jennie Winston, 

Said they would not stop until 
They had what every company 

Was required to turn in. 
Then the Company got real busy. 

Do this, you'll be sure to win. 

The King's Daughters they were happy. 
Their two hundred and more were there 

Mrs. Artist, the worthy Leader, 
Sat in the choir and led the air 
But kept her eyes on her table 
As her Secretaries would count 

And look at them — as much as to say — 
Don't fall short of the amount. 

And the other Clubs did nobly 

In raising a good amount; 
They all did work m.ost faithfully 

And gave correct account. 
Even the little children 

Worked with such a will 
Showing their determination 

To help pay ofT the bill. 

Of the Army — and when he 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 61 

The Rally now is over, 

Old Warren Church is free, 
All through the will and energy 

Of the Pastor, Rev. Lee. 

"LOVE PURIFIED." 

Should all the world grow cold to me 

And friends forsake and cast me down, 

I know dear heart that you'll remain the same, 

Thou cans't not change ; ah, no, not thee. 

Tke vow we vowed, the pledge we made 

Is registered in heaven above. 

For was it not before our God and King 

We swore our troth and pledged our love? 

So what care we for friends or foe, 
Our souls are one, our hearts entwined, 
We only know and feel we must endure 
And wait and hope some day to lind — 
To find the rest our souls do crave. 
The perfect love we know and feel 
Are ours — but yet we sometimes doubt 
That love for which we know is real. 

And when we reach that golden shore 
Sweetheart we'll love then ever more, 
A love so deep and purified 
Wil then be ours — Oh! Lord, abide. 



62 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

"TO VIOLA." 

Sweet Viola sing to me, 
Chant to me a lullaby. 
When you sing I feel to be 
As one afloat far out at sea. 

Sweet Viola Van Vlerah 

With voice so rich ; so sweet and clear, 

Tell me wondrous night-in-gale 

Who art thou? From whence did you hail? 

Tell me from what nook or bower 

You spring with all this glorious power? 

Tell me sweet Viola dear, 

Little charmer, have no fear. 

1 hear you sing, my heart beats fast, 
And o'er me such a spell you cast 
At last I awake; the dream is o'er, 
Yet still I long and long for more. 
Do sing again my nymph, my queen. 
Sing, sing, Enchantress, for I we'en. 
The birds keep silent in the tree 
To hear you sing ''My Rosary." 

Your voice has won my heart complete, 
My thoughts go out to thee my Dear. 
Ah! do not wake mc, let me dream 
Of sweet Viola Van Vlerah. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 63 

"DE SEPARATION." 

Come here Lize, let's talk it over, 

Fo we part for good and true; 
Separatin' ain't so easy 

On account of little Sue. 
But we can't get on together, 

Whose fault it is I do not know, 
And you have so often told me 

I could pack my duds and go. 

Dis little house dat we has paid fur, 

Keep it Liz, it 'longs to you. 
Do I worked most hard to own it, 

I leaves it now to you and Sue. 
Old Moll, de cow, I leaves you also 

And de chickens one and all ; 
Keep de furniture too Liza 

And de pictures on de wall. 

'Cept dat one you gave me, I<iza, 
Just about free years ago ; 
Fo we made dat vow to heaven 

To stick together fru life you know. 
But promises sometimes are broken, 
Of late wo sorter don't hitch right. 
I see you smilin', Ann Liza, 

But don't just catch de meanen quite. 

Lawd knows Fll miss yo' apple dumplings, 

De cozy home yo' allers keep. 
My meals yo' allers has 'em ready, 



64 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Yo'self a lookin' trim and neat. 
What's dat I hear you sayin', Liza, 

I shan't go, is dat what I hear? 
I do declar females is funny, 

Put on de dinner, Liza, Dear! 



"DE CITY AND BIG CON." 

De city and de big con am having an awful time, 

De big con wants to have der way, 

De city says, *T'll have mine." 
Its sumfen bout de franchise 

Dats run out long time go, 
De big con used de people's streets 

But pay so cussed slow. 

De city says de people shall 

Pay only three cent fare. 
De big con dey gits awful hot 

And goes way up in de air. 
De city made de greement. 

Now it's up to you and me 
If de big con fuses de three cent 

We can every one ride free. 

Lawd, 1 hope 'twill soon be settled, 

Dis fight dey now have on 
And peace be once more established 

'Tween de city and de big con. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 



b:: 



After sitting under the sound of Rev. McWilliam's voice 
and listening to Oh! such an eloquent sermon, when he first 
came to Toledo as Pastor of Third Baptist Church in the year 
of 1910, he as ever been associated in my mind as a very 
grand, pure-minded and highly educated gentleman ; one of 

the grandest of I was going to say ''our race" but wil! 

say any race." He is an orator worthy of great comment. 
You certainly are held spellbound while listening to the 
little gentleman, who, though small in stature, has the 
largest mind, the greatest soul and keenest intellect. 

Noble deeds and noble actions. 

Loyal, honest, kind and just, 
With an upright, manly bearing, 

A man to respect — a man to trust. 
His refined and cultured manner 

Is that a prince might well be proud. 
When first I met this worthy Reverend 

My praise for him was long and loud. 
His natural wit is so refreshing, 

His brilliancy and high aim 
All of which he seems unconscious 

Gives our hero wondrous fame. 

Were there only more men like him. 

Fearless, honest, upright men, 
Not afraid to speak the truth 

Whether it be foe or friend. 

Then in conclusion : may McWilliams 
Hold for the right — defend the race 

And some day he will 'be rewarded 
When He shall see him face to face. 



66 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

Composed by the author upon Hon. Chas. A. Cottrell's 
return from Columbus, where he had 'been filling a respon- 
sible position in the State House. 

Ring the bells and fire the guns, 
Wave your starry banner high. 
Shout your joyous praises loud, 
Victory is nigh. 

Yes, — tell the news to every one, 

Black and white, and old and young. 
The leader of our race so dear 
Will soon be here. 

Why, oh why, then should not we 

Feel rejoiced once more to see 
This man whose brains and head and mind 
Work for mankind? 

Good position filled by men 

Through Cottrill's influence ; and then 
Our leader, no he never knew 
When he was through. 

The race pride in him is so strong 

His great ambition and his aim is 
To have the black man push ahead 
And win a name. 

Altho our leader is a man 

Of highest standard ; it matters not 
The outcast and obscure ; how low they fall 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 67 

He has a gentle word and a smile for all. 

He seems to have been born to take the lead 
Among his fellowmen ; and this we know, 

Even tho he be a leader, statesman, ruler, 
Yet he is the people's friend. 

/\h ! yes, your coming back we hail with joy, 
We claim you; are you not our very own? 

And we rejoice to know 

That soon, yes, soon, you're coming home. 



68 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

"CUPID^S BOAT FOR ONLY YOU AND I. 

Only you and I love 

Can sail in this canoe. 
Only you and I love. 

No one but just us two. 
O'er the rippling waters, 

Beneath the deep blue sky, 

Sailing through life together, 

Just you and I. 

Only, Only, only room for two, 

Just you and I Dear, 
Can sail in this canoe. 
'Twas built by one called Cupid. 
A boat of love ; that's why 
No one can glide out with the tide 

But you and 1. 

If a storm should come, Love, 
And we were far from shore. 

And we fully realized 

Life's dream for us was o'er, 

I would clasp you to my breast, 
' We'd neither fear nor cry 

And thus we will leave this earthly world 
Just vou and L 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 69 

NATIONAL POEM. 

Composed and recited by the author at a Mock Congress. 

Why this bustle, why this turmoil? 

Why this busy, busy throng? 
Everything seems all excitement, 

Is there something going wrong? 
Ah (no) nothing wrong— far from it — 

Calm your fears my man, 
And bow to these rulers, to these leaders, 

Congress is in session now. 

Senators and learned statemen ; 

Wise men made to rule and reign ; 
To make laws and make them proper 

Requires deep thought and active brain. 

George Washington, the father of our country, 
And first president of United States, 

For two terms held the honored office. 
New laws he and his cabinet makes. 

They got the new government into operation, 
That we can proudly now call ours, 

And prevented the nation born 

Being entangled in European wars. 

Although the cotton gin invention 

Increased the wealth throughout the land ; 

This unfortunately brought slavery, 

Slave labor, the negroes were great in demand. 



70 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

John Adams was the second president, 

In '97 his reign began ; 
He only served one term, 

Which closed in the year 1801. 

The third president, Thomas Jefferson, 
Then took the seat, and here we find, 
Served two terms, from 1801 to the year 1809. 

Two terms James Madison ruled the people, 
Fourth president of the state, perchance. 

At the beginning of his ruling, 

Great Britain was at war with France. 

Standing near the ruins of the Washington Capitol, 
When the president made his inaugural address, 

There he took his oath of office. 
There he bravely stood the test. 

Here the time of dark, dark slavery, * 

Really and truly had begun. 
And the fight 'twixt North and South, 

From early morn till set of sun. 

The president of unblemished character, 
And honest purpose went to and fro 

Trying to quell the feeling of hatred, 
The honored man was James Monroe. 

John Quincy Adams, the 6th president, 

Served one term, yet, during the time. 
By the State of N. Y. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 71 

The Erie Canal was completed and put in line. 

The most important public improvement 

Made in the U. S., 
Connecting the Hudson and other rivers 

With the wonderful Erie Lakes. 

Andrew Jackson, fearless and honest, 

Two terms to the people given, 
Took his seat in '29, 

And retired in 1837. 

Van Buren, the 8th president, held one term, 

Business failures and panics made things on the 
bum. 
So the president was glad 

To step down and out in the year 1841. 

James K. Polk, the 11th president, one term served, 
The second declined, and modestly retired in 49. 

Taylor and Filmore's administration, 

12th and 13th Presidents found, 
The talk over the extension of slavery. 

Much trouble in the North abound. 

President Y. Taylor, tho himself a great slaveholdei 

Yet agreed for California to be free, 
But Calhoun and his party so strongly opposed it 

And feeling so bitter they could not agree. 

In this year was the working of the underground 



72 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

railroad, 
And many fugitives smuggled away 
From the South and hateful bondage, 

Of which is the wonder and tale of today. 

Franklin Pearce, the fourteenth president, 

Took his seat in '53. 
Served one term and good John Brown 

Planned for the slaves to be set free. 

James Buchanon, 15th president, 
Served one term and as you see, 

The next president was good old Lincoln, 
The man who set the slaves free. 

Abraham Lincoln, 16th president. 

From '61 to '65, 
Did more for this, our country 

Than all the presidents besides. 

'Twas in the dark, dark days of slavery. 
Our hero worked and planned that he 

Might win the victory over the South 
And set the slaves all free. 

The war began, the battle started, 

Brave men for their country bled and died 

Fought like heroes, died like soldiers, 
For privileges and rights denied. 

The war is ended, and the victory 
f the North over South is won. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 75 

And when Lincoln issued the proclamation, 
We cried, Thank God, the work is done. 

Then comes Jhe cruel-hearted assassin, 
And takes that which he cannot give, 

The life of our noble hero, 

But, thank God, his soul will always live. 

Oh, martyred one, oh ! noble one. 

Who always stood out for the right. 

You'll always live within our hearts. 
You out of darkness brought the light. 

(Reconstruction) — The new nation, 1865 to the present term 
The untimely death of Abraham Lincoln, 

Made Andrew Jackson the nation's head. 
His task was hard, his burdens heavy, 

For a whispering voice from the dead 

Seemed to ever, ever warn him, 

Do your duty near or far, 
Be for right, and watch the ending. 

The close of the Civil War. 

General Grant, our wide-awake president, 
Served two terms, it was during his time 

The electric lights and telephones 

And the Pacific railroad was put in line. 

Rutherford B. Hayes, 19th president, 

In 77 his reign began, 
Served his country good and faithfully, 



74 THE HONEYSUCKLE 

From 77 to '81. 

James A. Garfield, the 20th president, 

Took his seat in 81, 
xA-nd before the first year ended, 
And before his work was done, 

The enemy's hand was raised against him, 
A man named Guitteau fired the gun 

That took the life of James A G.arfield 
Before his work was fairly begun. 

Chester Arthur, then vice president. 
Finished the term, was much alive 

To things that were needed 
And retired in 1885. 

Grover Cleveland, 22nd president, 

First Democrat since Lincoln's reign, 

Served one term and by his ruling 
Showed deep thought and active brain. 

The 23rd president was Benjamin Harrison, 

Known for outspoken words, 
His thoughts ever were free. 

He served his country from '89 to 1893. 

The 24th president, Grover Cleveland, 

Was elected again, 
And the great outbursts from the people 

Showed his second reign excelled the first. 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 75 



The 25th president was Wm. McKinley, 
That mourned president, loved so well, 
But the enemy came and so he fell. 
Our president, Leader, Ruler of the land. 
Was shot down by a murderers cruel hand. 
He was kept from falling by his guards, 

And a number of the royal grand, 
But a negro snatched the steaming weapon 

From the villains hand. 
A negro courageous and brave, 

Threw the gun aside. 
Or a third ball would 

Have pierced the president's side. 
He lived a short while, 

And those who upon him attend, 
Said he was patient to the end. 
William McKinley is no more, 

His race on earth is run. 
The last words that he uttered were, 

"God's will be done." 
Those hymns he loved, 

And just before his soul was set at liberty, 
He whispered, sing "Nearer, My God to Thee." 
His wish was granted, 
And with a radiant smile so bright, 
He murmured, "Sing Kindly light." 

Rank, wealth, power, Ah ! it matters not how grand, 
We must bow some day to the Master's hand. 
And may we when the time does come, 
Say, like McKinley, "God's will be done." 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 

The 26th president was Theodore Roosevelt, 
And in spite of all that has been said. 

If looked at squarely, I think our people 
Owe something to the congenial Ted. 

For Howard Taft, number 27, 

At hrst the people picked the flaws, 
Saying tho Taft would be the ruler, 

Roosevelt, he would make the laws. 
Even then him we should honor, 

And freely let our praises abound, 
For giving Cottrel a position, 

Our Charley, from our own home town. 

Our present president, Woodrow Wilson, 
Whose mind is said to be wonderfully sound, 

Let's pray that if it's in his power. 
He'll cut the cost of living down. 

Rut pshaw, just see the time I've taken, 
I'd quite forgotten, its plainly seen, 

Nearly eight o'clock, now ain't this awful, 
When Congress opens at 8:15. 

i must be there for organization, 

For I would not really give a dime, 

T'o enter a great National Congress, 
Unless I can go there on time. 

Albert King, the honored president, 

I must hear his message read. 
Or perhaps the Sect., John H. Harter, 



THE HONEYSUCKLE 77 

Will read the message in his stead. 

Rev. McWilliams, the worthy vice, 

Is always prompt upon the scene, 
And Edward Harris and O. G. Fields, 

The Secretary of Ways and Means. 

To think of missing such a session, 

My very soul it thrills, 
I would not for a hundred dollars 

Miss the presentation of bills. 

Had I the time, I'd love to mention, 
Something of our own dear race, 
Our town has something we can be proud of, 

And sometime when opportunity will embrace 
We'll speak of advancement of the negro, 

Eight o'clock, (times up) I vow 
Not another moment to tarry, 
For congress is in session now. 

'By Mrs. K. Maud Speed, 
On "The Mock National Congress." 
Warren A. M. E. Church, May 19, 20, 21, 1913, 






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